The Jerx Impact Law

From the article: Nobody Wants A Robot to Read Them a Story!

I don’t intend this site to become an anti-tech or anti-AI site, but it may become, more and more, a pro-genuine-human-interaction site.

That’s always kind of been the point since the beginning of the site. But as the world drifts further online, further depersonalized, and further disconnected, the impact of your magic will rise dramatically to the extent you can make it offline, personal and a source of connection between you and your audience. (See the concept of Front Porchers.)

The Jerx Impact Law

• Magic shown directly to one individual is at least 10x more impactful than the same trick shown generally to a crowd.

• Magic shown in person is at least 100x more impactful than the same trick seen online.

• Put those together, and magic shown in person, for one specific person, is at least 1000x more impactful than the online version.

I’m not just throwing out a large number to make it sound impressive. If anything, I’m underestimating.

In fact, with the right presentation, you can take a trick that would be forgotten within 2 minutes if someone watched it online and make it a moment they will remember for years. That’s actually far greater than a 1000 to 1 impact.

Jason Ladanye has almost a million Instagram followers. He’s doing great for himself in that medium. Two months ago I met someone who told me he was a “big fan of Jason Ladanye.”

“I haven’t watched too much of his stuff,” I said. “What are some of his videos I should check out?”

He couldn’t name one. This “big fan” didn’t have a district memory of a single video. He didn’t have a favorite one. Or one he hated. Or even just a random one that popped in his head.

That’s not a Jason issue. It’s emblematic of magic online. It’s fun, maybe interesting, but instantly forgettable.

In real life, though, it can be the highlight of someone’s week at the very least. It could be the moment they think of and the story they tell whenever the subject of “magic” comes up the rest of their lives.

Some magicians worry that online magic will “destroy” magic. But I think it’s just destroying online magic. It’s too easy to write it off as a camera trick, AI fakery, stooges, etc. This distrust and disconnection to digital stuff actually gives the offline material you do more weight. That’s not just wishful thinking. People are accustomed to seeing and scrolling past the unbelievable and impossible online. But when you can do the unreal in the real world—and do it well—you unlock the potential for something undeniably powerful.

Quinta Trainer

The Quinta forcing procedure by Phill Smith is something I’ve written about on this site for almost a decade.

Only recently did I learn that the idea predates Phill and actually belongs to Stephen Ablett. It can be found in his book Body Tricks in the effect True Love. Well, it could be found in that book if that book was anywhere to be found anymore. It’s not, from what I can tell. (There’s a video with the same name that’s available, but it doesn’t have that trick.)

This is not to underplay Phill’s contributions to the Quinta concept, which are immeasurable. He expanded, simplified, and popularized the idea. And may have even independently created it. (I don’t know the exact history of if he was inspired by it or hit upon the idea himself.)

I’m not trying to strip Phill of his credit, only to recognize that Stephen Ablett put it into print first (about a year before Phill) and should be recognized for that.

That being said, the definitive place to learn the technique and the possibilities with it is in the Quinta Ebook from Phill.

For those who are learning the technique or need a refresher, Demian Max has put together an online app that helps you practice. You can check it out here. It will allow you to test yourself rapidly without having to actually count it out each time to make sure you got it right.

Thanks to Demian for letting me share it with you. As I’ve said often, I think Quinta is an essential technique to know for casual performers, and this will help you get comfortable with it quickly.

24 Disarmers

Magic is so much associated with expressing how clever or “special” you are, that anything you do that undermines that notion is incredibly disarming to people.

It’s like the classic conman move where you give the mark something first (a little money or a small gift). That upfront generosity lowers suspicion, because if someone’s giving you value, your brain resists the idea that they’re trying to take from you.

In magic, I try to do the same thing—except instead of giving away money or favors, I give away the power behind the trick. Sometimes in a way that feels real, sometimes in a way that feels fantastical—but either way, it scrambles expectations. Because the subtext of most magic—whether it’s your seven-year-old nephew or David Copperfield—is basically: “This is a contest. I win if I fool you. And fooling you proves I’m special so you must clap or validate me in some way.” That’s the dynamic people expect.

I want to break that expectation. So in almost every trick I do, I frame it in a way that undermines that model. A framing that downplays my power. That’s very disarming for people who assume the only reason to do magic is to show-off. And it primes them to experience the trick in a different way.

I’ve been writing about this since the beginning of this site, but now I’m formalizing this type of technique with a name: A Dis (plural: Disses)

“Dis” is short for Disarm. But it also plays on the slang “diss” (as in, a diss track). Because in a way, that’s exactly what you’re doing—you’re dissing yourself, undercutting your own power on purpose.

Which brings us here. Below are 24 Disses—broad categories of framings you can use to strip your power when performing

Disses

1. I didn’t do it, someone else did.
   A real or imaginary third party is the one responsible for the magic.

2. I didn’t do it, you did.
   Spectator-as-magician/mindreader.

3. I didn’t do it, some formless power did.
   Fate, luck, coincidence, karma.

4. I didn’t do it, this mystical object did.
   A crystal, charm, cursed relic, haunted object

5. I didn’t do it, this new piece of technology did.
   A futuristic device, app, AI, gadget.

6. I didn’t do it, something paranormal did.
   Ghosts, spirits, ESP, aliens.

7. I didn’t do it. Nothing happened. You’re imagining things.
   Magic as gaslighting (or gaslighting as magic)

8. I didn’t do it, that’s just a weird quirk of mathematics.
   Probability, number patterns, statistics

9. I didn’t do it, that’s just a weird quirk of psychology.
   Suggestion, perception, memory.

10. I did it, but I didn’t mean to.
    Happy accident.

11. I did it, but I was trying to do something else.
    The effect appears as a mistake or failure, not something you’d take credit for.
    “I was trying to make it vanish, but it just shrunk a little. I suck at this.”

12. I did it, but the amount of time I put into this worthless skill is more pathetic than impressive.

    Undermining the impressiveness of what you did by suggesting you invested too much time/energy to make it happen.

    “Yes, I can cut to the aces, but only because I was a loser with no friends who could devote three hours a day for years to learning this skill in high school. You could learn it too if you invested that much time. In fact, you could probably learn it in less time than I did.”

13. I did it, but I don’t know how I did it.
    Performer plays confused or out of control.

14. I didn’t do it, this is just something that always happens.
    An improbability that bizarrely always occurs

15. I didn’t do it, nature did.
    Gravity, magnetism, animal intuition.

16. I didn’t do it, this old custom did.
    Tradition, folklore, rituals.

17. I didn’t do it, science did.
    Framed as physics, chemistry, or other science demo.

18. I didn’t do it, a temporal disruption did.
    Time travel, time loops, multiple universes.

19. I didn’t do it, your perception did.

    Déjà vu, lost memories, Mandela effect.

20. I didn’t do it, it was always going to happen.
    Destiny or inevitability frame.

21. I didn’t do it, the trick does itself.
    Framing something as “self-working” when it’s not.

22. I did it, but only because I cheated.
    Presented as exposure, but really layered deception.

23. I didn’t do it, this is just the way the world works if you pay attention.
    Magic presented as heightened observation

24. I want to do it, but I don’t really know how. Can you help me with this?
    Changes a trick from “Behold, my power!” to a humble, collaborative experience where they’re pulling for you.

Notes:

1. The audience doesn’t have to believe your framing to be disarmed by these things. The simple fact that you’re not explicitly taking credit changes the dynamic. They don’t need to buy that your childhood invisible friend is whispering the card in your ear. Just by framing it that way, you’ve shifted the experience out of “battle of wits” territory into an immersive fiction.

2. You do have to actually invest in the premise, though. If you just toss off, “Do you believe in fate? I believe I’m fated to win every poker hand I play,” before going into your card trick, it will just come off as patter. And they probably won’t even remember you said it.

   But if you build a premise around the frame, you can make it matter to people in a way that hooks them. “I haven’t really played poker in…gosh…over 20 years, I guess. I used to play every week back in college. But one time I was rushing to a card game off campus and I ran over my neighbor’s cat. She was this old woman—everyone called her The Witch. We meant it as a joke, but when I told her what happened, she just held out her hand, twisted her fingers into this awful shape, and muttered something in what sounded like Latin, or maybe something even older. Then she told me I was cursed to never win another poker hand. Ever. No matter what, the cards would always turn against me. I can show you. Let’s make it simple and just use 10 cards…”

Mailbag #148

I cringe at a lot of what comes out of many performers mouths but one in particular that is so easy to avoid is all this crap around one’s “favorite card”.  “Tell me your favorite card”.  “What’s your favorite card?” “Do you have a favorite card?” Etc.  this can be extended to all questions regarding the suits too.

News flash, normal people don’t have a favorite card or suit.  Normal people spend zero time thinking about decks of cards and certainly not individual cards or suits.  Bigger news flash, since most Magi’s almost always prefer female participants, the odds of that person answering these types of questions with any genuine response is near zero.  If anything it stunts the interaction because it’s such a weird dumb question that the participant has never pondered (nor should have).  I think it makes the Magi look really out of touch and negatively affects the effect.  Especially when it’s so easy to give a more genuine line.  Only semi serious+ card players have favorites and even those favorites aren’t usually single cards but rather a favorite dealt hold ‘em hand. 

Think of a card?
Think of a suit?

Pretty simple.

—SK

Magicians often share the mentality of children.

If a kid loves Paw Patrol, he assumes you do too. “Zuma’s my favorite! Who’s yours? Is it Rocky? Is it Marshall?”

And you’re sitting there thinking, I haven’t watched three seconds of this shit in my life.

Children are narcissists who think everyone should give a shit about their world and their interests.

Magicians are similar.

“What’s your favorite card?” comes from this mindset.

(In life, it’s always best to assume people aren’t as invested in your interests as you are. This means it’s incumbent on you to make them interested if you’re going to ask for them to devote some time to what you’re doing.)

Now, you may have a trick where the premise requires a card they have some appreciation for. In that case, you can just spread the deck face-up and have them remove “any card you’re drawn to.” This can be interpreted by them as a “favorite” card, or it can be interpreted as a random card they’re “drawn to” in the moment.

If you can’t spread the deck, ask for “a value you like” followed by “a suit that appeals to you.” This, again, can be interpreted as a “favorite” or just what they happen to be drawn to at that time.

And, of course, when it comes to mindreading you would generally want to steer people away from a favorite card. Don’t waste a method to end up “predicting” the Queen of Hearts or Ace of Spades for someone’s favorite card. They’ll just walk away thinking, “That’s probably a lot of people’s favorite card.”

But Andy, you’re thinking, it’s better to predict something personal to them. That’s why I ask for their favorite card.

I understand. But you’re forgetting the whole point. Most people don’t have a “favorite card.” If you actually wanted to reveal something personal, you wouldn’t be starting with a deck of cards in the first place.

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This time I’m not sure you’ll be able to help me—it’s more of a vent than a question. In my country there’s a curious phenomenon: bad magicians become hugely successful. A perfect example is the duo Henry and Klauss. They look more like a country music act than illusionists, but they went on one of the most popular podcasts and performed the classic “calculator trick” in the worst way possible. Even without understanding the language, you can see the trainwreck:

If you check the comments, 99% of the audience figured out the method. And yet, they’re billed as “the greatest illusionists in Latin America.”

That got me thinking: I do corporate shows, and I also consult for other magicians in that market. Even when we aim for the best execution possible, there’s always that inevitable comparison: “oh, I saw Henry and Klauss do that.” It’s striking how hard it is for audiences to notice the difference between a good magician and a terrible one.

In other professions, the distinction is clearer: people say someone is a good lawyer, a good doctor, a good mechanic—because they solve problems. When they don’t, they’re seen as bad or mediocre. In magic, that bar is blurred—just show up a lot and you become a “reference.”

My question is: how can you truly set yourself apart so that the audience actually notices? Because sometimes I think that even if it were you (or any other great magic thinker) performing the same “calculator trick,” the lay audience might not catch the difference. And I’m not talking about creating radical experiences like this.

That’s just not viable in the corporate setting. Of course, you can insert more immersive moments (and I already do), but is there really a way to stand out when we’re often using the same effects as everyone else?—XX

You’re right, I can’t help you. This site is of limited value to someone performing in the corporate setting, as my whole “style” is designed around capitalizing on interactions with friends in social situations.

That said, I will try to give you a “bright side” to consider.

For most of my life, “professional magician” was treated as the gold standard because the bar for social magic was so low. On forums like The Magic Café, you’d get dismissed as “just an amateur” or “just someone who performs for friends,” as if most of these professional magicians weren’t just doing recycled tricks with recycled patter for half-interested audiences.

Here’s the bright side: Recognizing the limitations or professional performing means that you’ve seen how great the potential is in social performing. That’s a good thing. It’s like you’ve been giving lap dances and you realize it will never quite be as intimate as making love. Certainly that’s better than giving lap dances thinking, “This is as good as it gets.”

If I were in your position, I’d accept there’s a ceiling to how strong magic can be in those environments. Hit that ceiling consistently, and don’t worry about it beyond that. Congratulations, you are now a successful corporate performer.

If your goal is something bigger—TV, a theater show, whatever—you’re not going to leap straight there from corporate gigs anyways. At best, those shows open the door to making new contacts. The real opportunities come when you can meet with and perform for those decision-makers outside the corporate environment. These are moments where they see you as more than “the guy who did tricks at the conference.” Those are the pivotal performances worth pouring your creativity, ingenuity, and uniqueness into.

And if you’re happy staying in the corporate lane, just acknowledge its limits and make sure you’ve got an outlet elsewhere. Use social performance as a laboratory to do the personalized, affecting stuff you can’t get away with in a ballroom full of salespeople.

Dustings #130

This trick seems to be, essentially, an AA battery that you can turn on and off by remote control. So, by extension, you can turn on or off anything that uses AA batteries by remote control.

Perhaps you can introduce your lover to your Psychic Vibrator. They pick a card, shuffle it back into the deck, and hold the psychic vibrator against their clitoris. As you deal through the cards and get to their selection, BZZZZZZZZZ.

That’s my Card!

This is what Darwin Ortiz described as Strong Magic.

Shove it up your ass and it’s an EDC.

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This is pretty funny: Murphy’s Magic had AI write the ad for John Carey’s new book, and it went ahead and invented a quote from Ben Earl. Murphy’s—showing not exactly the highest standards—just rubber-stamped it and sent it out the door.

Here’s Ben’s response…

Concerning Misattribution of a Fictitious Quote:

Dear colleagues, customers and community members,

I am writing to address a concerning matter.

In their promotional copy for a new book by John Carey, Murphy’s Magic attributed a quote to me that I did not provide. In fact, the quote in question was entirely fabricated!

This was the leading quote on their sales page for the book and therefore the leading quote on every sales page of every magic shop which stocked the book, and it was at the top of every mailshot email I've seen for the book too. It was everywhere and yet completely false.

I promptly contacted John Carey, who was equally unaware of the origin of this quote. Similarly, Murphy’s was initially unable to provide clarity on its source. Subsequently, Murphy’s disclosed that the promotional copy—including the fictitious quote—was not only generated by ChatGPT, but the copy hadn’t then been checked before release!

While I sincerely hope this was an unintentional error, this incident raises serious concerns about the practices employed. At best, it shows negligence; at worst, it suggests deliberate misrepresentation. Either scenario undermines the credibility of Murphy’s promotional efforts.

To give Murphy’s some credit, once contacted, they acted swiftly to remove the quote from their page before informing other shops to do the same. However, the cat was already out of the bag, many sales had been made and countless emails had already been sent to prospective customers.

In light of this, I feel obligated to caution both creators and consumers alike. Creators, I urge you to diligently verify that your names and statements are not being misused or misattributed in promotional materials. Likewise, consumers should exercise caution and critically evaluate the authenticity of testimonials and endorsements.

I trust that this matter will be received with the seriousness it warrants, and I encourage all parties to uphold the highest standards of integrity in their professional practices.

It truly saddens me to send this type of public message, but I have no other option.

Sincerely,

Ben Earl

The quote in question is this one, I believe (which is still on many ads for John Carey’s new book):

“The way Carey thinks about magic is exactly how we all should-clear, efficient, and deeply magical.”
– Ben Earl

Which, if you know anything about the Ben Earl’s material compared to John Carey’s, really doesn’t make a lot of sense.

My advice to companies that write magic ad-copy is to ease up on the AI.

Here’s the thing: writing magic ads is one of those rare niches where AI just doesn’t cut it. Why? Because magic isn’t something you can sell based solely on its measurable properties. It’s an emotional experience for both the performer and the spectator. We want to hear what makes this trick (or book) so good from one of those perspectives. Sure, AI can take a stab at guessing, but it doesn’t actually know. If you’re selling a car, AI can rattle off horsepower, safety ratings, and gas mileage all day — but magic doesn’t come with a spec sheet.

When I read an ad that feels mostly AI-generated, my reaction is, “Wait, wasn’t there anyone close to this product who wanted to tell us what makes it special? Did they really have to hand that job off to a bot?” As more and more people become accustomed to AI’s polished but bland “voice,” this will be the reaction of more and more consumers.

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Tragic, really, that Joshua Jay isn’t writing a regular column anymore. He should launch a blog or something, otherwise the magic world will be cruelly deprived of his endless brilliance. Insights that truly changed the art of magic.

Creep Updates

A couple months ago I received a number of emails asking if I was going to be kicking some magician named Reza out of the GLOMM because he was accused of breach of contract of a sexual misconduct settlement.

I don’t think so. The rule is you need to be convicted of a crime. I genuinely can’t figure out what is going on with that story, but from what I can tell, there’s been no conviction.

I’ll be honest, the story certainly makes him sound like a creep. But not—as of yet—a criminal one.

Plus, hasn’t he been punished enough? Judging from his pictures, he saw Justin Bieber 15 years ago, developed a big-time crush on him, shellacked his hair into a knockoff Biebs cosplay, and then got cursed by a gypsy to keep it that way for life. That’s the only explanation, right? Certainly, he still wouldn’t be wearing that hairstyle unless some hex had shackled him to it.

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Jason McCully has been kicked out of the GLOMM.

As Jason notes in his Facebook bio, his interests include “mayhem” and “photography.” These interests are perhaps best exemplified by his primary hobby: taking videos of women and underage girls while they went to the bathroom.

Whenever I’m notified by someone of a magician that needs to be kicked out of the GLOMM, I always search my email and pray that I won’t find some email from that magician that’s like, “Hey, big fan.”

Fortunately, that hasn’t happened yet, but I did find this:

This dunce thought he’d send me a penny via paypal and get a receipt like, “You sent $0.01 to Chester Dupree.” And then he was going to “bust” me by revealing my name.

Guys, I know how the internet works. I knew I couldn’t A) remain anonymous and B) set up a bunch of stuff under my own name. I kinda cracked the code on that long before I set up even my first magic blog back in 2003.

If you want to know who runs the Jerx PayPal, who registered the site’s URL, or even whose name the phone I use for magic apps is under, I’ll gladly tell you—it isn’t me, and none of it brings you any closer to me. Covering myself that way was the easy part of remaining anonymous.

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But, Andy, you don’t understand. I want to do what I can to support my local sex criminals.

Well, then you’ll appreciate my new feature here at The Jerx.

Catch A Predator

Here I’ll inform you where you can catch your local sex criminal performing.

According to the email below, Jeff Carson aka, Jeffrey Leach, Ron Geoffries (see here and here) will be lecturing on the Nest of Boxes for the Society of American Magicians #4 (Philadelphia) at the House of Magic.

What this email makes clear (beyond the fact that SAM #4 is struggling for cash—really guys? you’re not going to chip in for the Christmas party?), is that if you want to go to the lecture and call Jeff out for molesting 10-year-olds you can do that.

It’s only the following month’s lecture (the Fun Mix) that is a “no judgement [sic] zone.” On September 18th you are free to judge all you like.

Invitations

There are certain sentences no one wants to hear:

“Have you heard the good news about our Lord and Savior…”

“I’m looking for a few motivated individuals to join my team. If you’re tired of your 9-to-5 and ready to be your own boss, this could be exactly what you’ve been waiting for.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a female Craig Petty?”

Right up there with those, I’d put the sentence: “Do you want to see a magic trick?”

Sure, there are people who light up when they hear that—but in my experience, they’re usually the exact people I’d least want to perform for.

For everyone else, that phrase can carry some baggage. Most peoples’ only experience of live magic is bad magic: tricks that bored them, tricks so obvious they had to fake surprise to protect the ego of the child (or man-child) showing it, or tricks that genuinely fooled them but felt so hollow the only takeaway was, “Well, I guess I’m stupid.”

Very few people are ever actually charmed by a trick.

Which is why dropping that question—“Want to see a trick?”—was one of the best decisions I ever made when it came to getting people on board to watch a trick.

The words you use at that moment matter. They’re the Invitation into the experience.

Instead of “Want to see a trick?” Consider Invitations like these:

• “This has been bugging me all day. Can you make any sense of it?”

• “I learned this thing the other day and I’m wondering if it works on everyone. Will you be my guinea pig?”

• “Okay, this is going to sound dumb, but I swear it’s true…”

• “I read this article that had a little exercise to test intuition, want to try it?”

• “Someone showed me this thing at a party last week, and it’s been stuck in my head ever since.”

• “Want to see a weird little glitch in the way your brain processes stuff?”

• “This was our road-trip game growing up. I got kind of good at it.”

• “I picked this up from a friend who claimed it was a way to tell if someone was lying.”

• “Supposedly this says a lot about how your brain is wired, let’s try it.”

• “Do you mind holding onto this for a second? You’ll see why.”

• “I never paid for a drink in college doing this. Want to see?”

Not all of these Invitations are perfect for every audience, trick, or situation, but almost any one of them is better than, “Let’s play make-believe that I have magic powers.”

If you only remember a couple, remember the ones I’ve used most often in my writing (and in my real life):

1. “Can I show you something weird?”

2. “Can I get your help with something?”

These play directly to two instincts people almost always say yes to: curiosity, and the desire to be helpful.

You’re not aiming for something clever, just something intriguing and human. And “Want to see a magic trick?”—the same line you used when you were nine—is neither.